-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Syrali's Search Date: December 14, 1998 Places: Telgar Skyspace; Smithcraft Lower Meadow and Lounge Game: PernMUSH Copyright Info: The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kassi's Note: When it comes to dragons, nothing is sacred. Kassima and her self-proclaimed pawn, R'ehn, head to Smithcraft Hall to pick up a commission made by the Wingleader... only to have Lysseth and Bhalth conspire to bring home a plaything of their own. Just don't ask me where Lysseth got all those ideas about wherry-dung, or Bhalth the idea that licking Candidates makes them feel loved. I have a feeling there are some things I'm better off not knowing. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Log: <*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air. You spring from Lysseth's ledge with one downsweep of your wings, soaring into the sky above the Northern Bowl. <*> Bhalth leaps from Kaath and Bhalth's Ledge and flies into the air. Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth sends brightly, << Hidily-ho. My rider wants to check up on something at *image of Smithcraft*; you're sure yours doesn't object to coming along? >> Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << Not at all. He has to protect people from your rider after all. Err, no, he says that's not right... But that is what he was -thinking-... >> Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth rumblesnorts, decidedly amused. << I'll just bet. I think I'll keep that thought from my rider; no use inviting homicide while visiting elsewhere. >> The rim of the bowl falls away from you and you soar into the open skies. <*> Bhalth flies up from the northern half of the bowl. Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << That would be very hard to explain, yes. >> <*> Lysseth disappears into Between. Between You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats... Black... Blacker... Blackest! You suddenly emerge... <*> Lysseth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! <*> Bhalth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! <*> Lysseth does the 'bugle at the watchdragon' thing, then swirls into a spinning spiral that leads ground-wards. You spiral down to a landing on the meadow between the various buildings. <*> Bhalth spirals down and lands carefully on the meadow. You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles, cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully. R'ehn clambers down Bhalth's side to the ground, using his foreleg as a step. R'ehn tugs off his gloves as he lands by Bhalth. Giving the ploka-dotted blue a pat he pads Kassi-wards, "Ooh, I wonder what the odds are of being able to abduct a cookie or two..." "I always get lost from here," Kassi mildly complains, doffing her helmet and hooking it onto Lysseth's straps. "Been a bit since I last went in search of someone. Grego and those knives and dyes, y'know. Are Smithcraft cookies something special, like Minecraft's, then?" R'ehn gestures back over one shoulder, "Not quite the same, but I was told I oughta try em last time I talked to a smith." He chuckles, "And Grego's not Grego anymore of course." He glances at the exit opportunities, "We could flip a mark piece?" Kassima points out, "But he was *then*, 'cause G'har probably wouldn't sell me purple dye t'be putting in bronzers' drinks. I'd do that, but 'twas always taught t'never, ever show marks 'round a Crafter." Peering towards the Work Hall, she inquires, "In there, d'you think?" R'ehn pauses to consider the first part of that at length. Then he decides he simply does not wish to know why Kassi was feeding bronzeriders dye. He latches onto the latter portion, it seems safer. "Looks like a good place to start. We can always wander around and look lost. Somebody will show us where to go." What -faith- this man has... Argothe strides into the meadow and stops suddenly, eyes widening, when he sees the current occupants. Tough luck, R'ehn. Kassi's going to tell you anyway. "See, if'n they drank the dye, it made 'em pass purple water... a scream, I daresay. In more than one sense of the word. You think I could trade blackmail about *G'har* for directions, maybe?" Oh, look, and there's a potential customer! With a wave, she calls over, "Duties to the Smithcraft and her Masters, and g'deve!" R'ehn just looks positively disturbed and edges away from Kassi. At her greeting Argothe-wards he turns as well, offering an amiable wave. "Telgar's duties," he notes politely. Dragon> Lysseth senses that Bhalth pssts, << Kaath found a tastegood. We oughta get a tastegood to bring home too. It'll make us look good. >> Argothe heads towards the two riders, "Smithcrafts duties to Telgar and her Queens", he says polietly, with a slight bow to each rider, "Good eve, can I help you with anything?" Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth seems mildly disturbed by this announcement. << Someones Special don't taste good. They taste just like.... >> Chicken? << Watchwher dung. Kassima tells me so. >> There's a vague feeling of unease. *She's* not going to ask what Kassi was doing tasting watchwher dung. Dragon> Lysseth senses that Bhalth on the other hand is curious, << How does she know? Has she ever tasted one? I have. They tastegood, and we get to keep them. >> R'ehn gestures vaguely Kassi-wards, taking a step back. This is her errand, he's just here to do the heavy lifting and all. Kassima makes a face at R'ehn, but is all politesse and smiles when she turns back to Argothe. "Actually, mayhaps you could, if'n 'twould nay be too much trouble. 'Twas seeking Journeyman Emdrien and Apprentice Syrali; could you give me directions to the most likely place t'be finding 'em?" Kassima glances at R'ehn, then adds, resignedly, "And if'n you might also tell me where we could find some cookies...." R'ehn didn't say a word. He is innocent. He just stands there, looking innocent and helpful and ... well vapid. But there's nothing new there. Argothe looks thoughtful for a moment, "They might be in the lounge at this time of night", he pauses and grins, "There's plenty of cookies there too, if you'll follow me.", he finishes polietly, moving towards the main hall. Kassima gives Lysseth's neck a slap, then steps away from the green beast. "A'course, with thanks. Cookies are a goodness." R'ehn looks decidedly pleased, moving to make up the tail end of the parade. Two solutions in one! "Thanks." Argothe heads through the giant entrance into the Main Work Hall. You head through the giant entrance into the Hall. You give a hard tug on the heavy metal door walking into the small lounge. The noise from the rest of the work hall is definitely muted here. R'ehn shuts the door tightly behind him as he walks into the lounge. Syrali rummages through an already picked-over bin of firelizard scraps near the door to the kitchen, Daz perched on the edge overseeing the process. "Picky, you are," she comments to the blue. "Here, try this." "I hope you're happy," Kassi mutters in an undertone to R'ehn. "But if'n those cookies secretly have bits of metal and agenothree in 'em, *don't* come crying to me." Turning her thoughtful gaze towards the lounge in general, she remarks, "Long time since I've been here. Duties to Smithcraft and her Masters--ah, Apprentice Syrali! One-half of the pair 'twas looking for!" R'ehn pads in after Kassima, snickering quietly. "Hey, you're the one who asked, boss-lady. I just stood there and looked innocent." He offers a polite wave to the room at large, offering, "Telgar's duties." Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth has been pondering this idea of things that taste like wherry dung being called Taste Goods for quite some time now. Finally, << I don't think my rider ever tried to eat one, but you never can be sure. >> Especially not when the green is glowing. << I suppose it couldn't *hurt* to bring back one or two. The question is, are there any nearby that wouldn't just be fakes? >> Syrali pops around, eyebrows rising and meat-mussed hands scrubbing self- consciously along her trousers. "Rider Kassima. Oh, you came for the glass." She glances to the other rider and back, belatedly remembering her manners enough to bob her head. "Smithcraft's duties to Telgar, ma'am. Journeyman Emdrien's been waiting for you. He said you might send someone today." Argothe moves towards the kitchen, "I'll just go get you some cookies, Ma'am, Sir", he says over his shoulder. Kassima cringes immediately at the dread M-word. "Kassima, please!" she corrects at once. "And thankee, both for that and for leading us here. Aye, 'twas the general notion... duties and such right back, but call me ma'am again, and I'll go ballistic and streak the walls with purple dye or something. Swear t'Faranth." Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << We could lick several and see if they're any good? >> R'ehn offers quietly, "Or she'll just stomp on your instep. After the thing at Bitra I walked funny for a week." Ah, nothing like an excess of honesty. Syrali hesitates, looking a bit startled at the purple dye notion. "Err. Yes... Rider." She nods toward the door, starting that way. "I'll just go fetch him?" Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth's rejection of that idea belies the fact that she still secretly believes they're really wherry dung in human's clothing. << We could sniff them, perhaps. Or just get a good look at them. I *think* there's something wherry-dungish in there.... >> Kassima aims a light kick at R'ehn's leg. "Hush, minion. Certes, Syrali, that'd suit; many thanks." Syrali nods again, turns back abruptly to fetch up the still-munching Daz, and darts out the door toward the main hall. Syrali lets in the noise of the work hall briefly, before the door mercifully shuts behind her. R'ehn erks softly, idly taking another step back. Hopefully if he's harder to kick, he's less likely to -get- kicked. "Yes, boss-lady." Syrali shuts the door tightly behind her as she walks into the lounge. Syrali returns shortly after, trailed by the much taller, rather distinguished Journeyman, who cradles a wooden box very gently in his hands. "Ahh, rider. I hadn't expected you to come, yourself." Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth perks up, somewhat literally; bubbles begin to bounce around in the cool blue pool that lies amidst the crystal forest of her thoughts. Rather like the effects of carbonation. << There! I definitely sensed wherry-dung! >> Her spider-sense is tingling! << But was it from the girl, or has she just been consorting with wherry- dung? >> Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << We need to lick her. If we -lick- her, then we will know. >> Kassima beams at R'ehn, a beam which she then turns on Apprentice and Journeyman. "Aye, well... I found m'self able t'travel, and I've been going stir-crazy, cooped up in the Weyr and all. So any excuse for an errand is a welcome one. Oh--this guy with the floofy hair is m'Wingmate, R'ehn, blue Bhalth's rider. R'ehn, these are Journeyman Emdrien and Apprentice Syrali respectively." R'ehn offers a polite wave as he's introduced, pointedly ignoring any snickers in regards to his dragon's name. "Nice to meetcha'." Syrali fades behind Emdrien, bobbing a quick nod of acknowledgement. Emdrien inclines his head with a bit more dignity. "A pleasure, Riders, and Smithcraft's duties." He turns his attention to Kassima, brows rising. "Would you prefer to inspect it before you take the glass with you? If I may say so, you've quite gotten the better of the deal." R'ehn grins in decided amusement, but he's not -about- to ask when Kassi -hasn't- gotten the better end of the deal. He just stands here, pawnishly. "By all means," replies Kassi, giving up on the quest to kick or beat R'ehn into submission for now. "And if'n 'tis *very* delicate, I might appreciate a bit of help from yon Apprentice in getting it settled on m'dragon; price aside, I hate t'risk damage to a fine piece." Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth rumblecackles draconically. << I'm not going to lick her, but I pointed out to Kassima the risk of accidentally having what's in the box break. She is very protective of things that she's traded many of the wooden circles for. >> Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << But... but... licking them is -fun-! They get the -best- expressions. Awww, c'mon, Lysseth, -please-? >> Emdrien moves over to one of the tables, setting the box down with slightly exaggerated care. Syrali tags along, twining her fingers into Daz's tail to keep him from interfering. The lid comes off easily, revealing what looks to be several layers of well-combed ovine wool. "It's quite well packed, of course, and the goldwork detailing you requested does provide some stability." He smoothes back the covering sheets of wool, revealing the glass, nestled for all the world like a rose into the cushioning. "However, as you prefer." Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth appears mildly dismayed. But, resignedly, << All right, all right. You can lick her. But if she tastes like dung, just remember that I warned you. >> Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << Yay! Yay! I get to -lick- someone! >> R'ehn steps forward a bit, abusing his height to see over Kassi's shoulder and into the box. "It's very pretty." Ah, eloquent as always. --- Deep rose coloring curls in sweeps up from the bottommost part of this glass's cup, a very rich hue near the bottom until it snaps off sharply into delicate green, the pink clearing to near-colorlessness at the very topmost rim. Goldwork lines the inside in tiny tendrils, tracing out etched-in petals, and bronze twines down the stem, picking out leaves until it reaches the flaring base. --- [Editor's Note: It was planned initially that I would desc the item, so the desc change that it underwent before it was actually given was done with Syrali's approval. :) ] Kassima leans over to peer into the box, and for just once, her face lights up with something besides mischief or avarice. "Oooooh," she can't quite keep herself from ooohing. "Journeyman, Apprentice, that is positively *gorgeous*." Then, gaze flickering up a moment, she admits, "Lysseth's insisting that I never manage t'pack a single thing right, and that she's nay going t'listen to me curse and moan about it if'n it breaks. Methinks a bug crawled up the beastie's tailfork or something." A pause, then, hesitantly, "She also wants t'know, for some reason that I'm just plain afraid to ask about, whether either of you have been consorting with wherries lately?" Skip that, R'ehn doesn't want to be that close to Kassi -anymore-. She's started asking the scary questions, it's time to back up now. He takes several long steps backwords before asking, "Wherries?" Kassima admits, very reluctantly, "She seems t'think one of 'em smells like wherries. She *refuses* to let go of the subject. Even asked if'n you might've been carrying a wherry in disguise, I have t'say." Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth confides, disgruntled, << I didn't ask about wherries. I asked about wherry dung, but Kassima seems to feel it would be impolite to ask about that. >> Emdrien's solemnity slips for a moment to a smile. "I'm very glad you like it." He reaches to tug the covering back down, tucking it gently around the edges of the glass. The latter comment gives him pause, his brows furrowing. "Wherries? I don't believe I've even seen a wherry in quite some time. Aside from on the table, of course." He glances down to Syrali, who shrugs helplessly, shaking her head. "No, no wherries." Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << She does not understand the importance of this. It doesn't matter. She will be licked. When she is licked we will know. Licking is key. >> R'ehn erks quietly, stepping back further. "Has uh, Lysseth been eating unapproved vegetation?" Kassima assures Emdrien, with absolute sincerity, "I love it. And I'm certain the person 'tis for will adore it, too. Now, the payment." Unhooking a pouch from her jacket, she opens it and counts out two and three-quarters marks. "I can't complain about the price after seeing the result, Journeyman, Apprentice, and from me that's definitely saying something. I'm sorry about Lyss and the wherries. Methinks she must *really* be hungry if'n she's imagining that." Kassima then tosses over her shoulder to R'ehn, "You mean the 'special herbs'? Nay. Though she keeps asking me whether *Bhalth* has." R'ehn's brows furrow in more than mild confusion. He gets that stereotypically distant look a moment and the groans quietly. "We're doomed." Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth just has to wonder, << Have you been eating diseased herdbeasts, Bhalth? >> Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << Of course not silly. But I have found lots of tastegoods before. It seems to work. >> The Journeyman chuckles, accepting the marks without comment. He nudges Syrali, dropping one of the chips into her hand, then turns back. "I'd offer something, but I'm afraid we're not the Beastcraft." He slides the lid onto the box, pushing it down firmly, and loops a strap out of his pocket to cinch it closed before offering it to the apprentice. "Don't drop it." The girl winces slightly, and clutches the box to her chest. "I won't, sir." Kassima assures the Journeyman, hastily, "I'd nay ask it anyway, sir. It's truly been a pleasure doing business with you. You're certain you don't mind helping me get that packed up, Syrali?" Syrali shakes her head stiffly, darting an annoyed look at Emdrien. If he hadn't /said/ something... She hooks her fingers under the cinching strap for extra security. "Not at all, rider." R'ehn tucks his hands in his pockets, decidedly pleased for once that -he- doesn't have to carry the box. "Have a nice day," he offers to the Journeyman before preparing to follow the others. "Likewise," Emdrien says, patting Syrali's shoulder before turning his attention to the tables. He flicks a thumb, tossing a mark up and catching it before tucking the lot into his pocket. Kassima gives R'ehn an odd look. "'Have a nice day'? Where'd you come up with that one? Clear skies, Journeyman, Smiths; our duties t'your Hall and Masters." See, *someone* of this motley duo is at least formal. "All right, R'ehn, Apprentice... shall we?" The day Kassima's formal and means it is the day hell freezes over, right? Syrali checks her grip on the box for the third time and nods. "Yes'm." R'ehn would be formal, but he's been terribly warped by greenriders. He hasn't left a room without fleeing for his life in so long, he's forgotten how one goes about it. With a tug, you open the door and are greeted with the cacophony of noise coming from the work hall as you walk out. You push open the large metal doors to the meadow, grateful to escape the heat and racket of the work hall. Syrali emerges from the double doors of the main work hall. R'ehn emerges from the double doors of the main work hall. Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << Okay boss, lemme know when I can lick! >> Kassima eyes Lysseth and Bhalth both rather warily, but heads over to the green's side nonetheless to open one of the strap-pouches. "There should be room in this one, methinks. Lyss, get your bloody great head away from that poor lass, would you?" Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth advises, << Wait until she has the small box put away, then lick to your heart's content. >> R'ehn takes up the rear, as per normal. Nobody can pin signs to his tunic if he's in the back. He offers the dragons a decidedly suspicious look. "Need a hand?" When in doubt, offer to be helpful. Bhalth warbles to Lysseth, his eyes whirling. Unlike Lysseth, he stays politely back. Lysseth rumbles with faint disgruntlement. She's innocent, honest! She's just looking. Or rather, watching, with brightly whirling eyes of blue. Ever get the feeling that you're being... watched? Syrali sidles, following Kassima with an eye on the dragons, though Daz trills a high-pitched, extremely enthusiastic greeting. "You'll have to be very careful taking off, Rider," the apprentice notes quietly, raising the box to tuck into the satchel. "Though you /probably/ could drop it without it breaking." Oh, dear, she mentioned dropping it again. And being stared at just isn't helping things. R'ehn decides discretion is the better part of valor and steps back away from potentially breakable things. He surreptitiously elbows Bhalth, "Behave." Kassima's fire-lizards begin chittering greetings to this burbly one of their own species, much to Kassi's dismay. "Shhhh! Bloody sadists! We will be, Apprentice; Lysseth is only too careful of m'health these days." Lowering the top flap of the satchel, she buckles it securely--and then, for some reason, steps back. Lysseth is rumbling, amusement discernable in the sound. The two together are probably not a good sign. Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << So I can do it now, Boss? >> When did he turn into a chihuahua? << Huh, can I? >> Syrali brushes her hands off, nervously retreating once the box is safely out of her hands. She glances between the two of you, then nods quickly. "Clear skies to you both," she says, inflection rising in almost a question. "If that's all you'll need." Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth agrees resignedly, << You can do it, yes. Lick away. Just don't get her *too* spit-covered? >> Bhalth's head swings around to prevent escape. Regarding Syrali quite closely for a moment he then slurps her. He's careful not to get her too drooly, he's just trying to get a little taste after all. He settles back, looking contemplative. R'ehn groans very quietly, sinking his face into his hands, "Can't take these critters anywhere.... I swear, spotted boots..." Syrali freezes dead, eyes widening rather comically. "I didn't get anywhere /near/ the wherry." Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << She tastes pretty good. If you think she will do... >> Kassima and Lysseth both eye Bhalth as they might some dangerously demented creature. "Are you satisfied *now*, Bhalth?" Kassi demands, but Lysseth has her own agenda to pursue. Stealthily, a dusky green tail swings about to further block escape, and her own muzzle intrudes into Syrali's personal space. Hello, there. Hello. Hello. Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth is all crystalline confidence. << I'll find out! >> And *without* licking anyone, thank you. Bhalth backs back up, curling up in contentment now that he's had a chance to lick -someone-. R'ehn is still attemtping to think of an appropriate apology. Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << If you don't lick them, they don't feel loved. >> This is just thrilling for Daz, but Syr's going steadily... well... less steady. She tries to watch both at once, pulling back a trace from the green's muzzle. "I had herdbeast on my hands -- and maybe there was wherry in the firelizard bowl," she says, clearing her throat to add, "If she wants some, I can get a few scraps..." Kassima finally seems to notice what her dragon's up to, and groans a groan not much that less distressed then R'ehn's. "She's insisting that you're wherry-dung in disguise, Syrali, I'm sor--oh. Oh, wait--" But Lyss doesn't want to wait. She swings her muzzle forward, with enough momentum to send Syrali to her rump on the ground if she's not suitably braced. Braced? Must be kidding. The firelizard has sense enough to abandon his perch, but Syrali topples, landing with an awkward, breath-stealing, "Oof," against backside and hands. R'ehn pads away from the blue, now that he appears to be unlikely to attempt to do any further damage to Weyr-Craft relations. "-Really- sorry about tha-ack!" The last is as Lysseth is helpful as well, "Oh boy." Lysseth continues to stare at the poor girl, hot breath--minus the usual scent of firestone--swirling from her too-close nostrils. "Lysseth," comes Kassi's heartfelt moan. "Only you. Only you would think 'Candidate' and 'wherry dung' are synonyms." A sigh, and she gives the green's shoulder a slug. "Back *up* a bit, lump; let her up! Apprentice, I'm sorry, but there's something I'm going t'have t'be asking you." Lysseth is content to back up now that she's sufficiently caught Syrali's attention, with a rumble that thrums with smugness. Lysseth> Bhalth senses that Lysseth notes proudly, in a tone that practically speaks of 'nyah, nyah', << I've decided. She's one of Them. >> Dragon> Bhalth bespoke Lysseth with << Yay! Another one! The more tastegoods the better. >> R'ehn pads a few steps over to Lysseth, quietly noting up to the green, "You know, that explains a lot." Lysseth snorts down at R'ehn, her amusement clear. Humans are so blind sometimes. Syrali scrambles back to her feet as rapidly as possible, brushing herself off and looking well along the road toward plain scared. That's a /big/ critter, after all. "Ummm. Y-yes'm. What?" So much for manners in the face of adversity. Kassima gives her dragon a long look, then draws herself up as straight as she can, clasping her hands behind her back. "Apprentice Syrali of Smithcraft," she intones, all formality, "Green Lysseth, currently affiliated with Telgar Weyr, has found you suitable--without having to lick you, she demands that I add--t'be Standing for gold Herath and bronze Talibenth's clutch. D'you accept the offer of Search?" Syrali's brushings-off slow to uncertain patting of her breeches, then top entirely. Cleverly, she stares at Kassima and inquires, "What?" R'ehn is even blinder than most, by dint of sheer gullability and the belief that people are onherantly nice and kind and wouldn't attempt to mislead him. He doesn't bother to hide an ear-to-ear grin as Kassi asks, 'The Question'. "Licking is key." "Licking is unhygenic," Kassima corrects with a roll of her eyes, but she's grinning too, now. "D'you want t'come to Telgar and be a Candidate?" she clarifies for Syrali. "You'll probably have t'clean latrines and stuff, but at least you'll get the best seat in the house at the Hatching." R'ehn adds helpfully, "And you don't have to worry about what to wear, it's all planned for you. Very convininient." Blew her circuits. Wicked riders. Syrali glances back and forth between the two of you (and the dragons, of course). "I... couldn't say no," she says slowly, stunned pretty literally witless. She looks at R'ehn again, brow furrowing. "I wasn't really worrying about that." Such scintillating conversation. Kassima beams at Syrali. Positively beams. "That's shiny, as the fluff- haired cohort here would probably say. Congratulations, then! You may want t'go gather up your things--clothes, belongings, whatnay--and tell your Masters. We'll wait." R'ehn snickers softly, his ears reddening as he nods. "Shiny, festive... all that kind of thing. Tas... Candidates are good things." Syrali takes another moment to mull this over, then nods shakily and whirls, trotting inside. It's a wonder she doesn't end up flat on her nose. Syrali enters the residence hall. Syrali comes down the stairs. Syrali emerges a fair few minutes later with a hasty, untidy, lumpy satchel over one shoulder. "I left a note for the Craftmaster," she says, flicking looks between you for confirmation. "Was that all right?" "R'ehn, I just have t'be asking. *Where* did Bhalth get this idea that Candidates taste good?" Looking back towards Syrali, Kassi nods reassuringly. "I'm certain 'twas, Candidate. If'n you're sure you're ready, we can be off back to the Weyr--unless you had other business here, R'ehn?" R'ehn shakes his head to the last, "Not at all, I just came to carry things and all." He grins rather brightly, "He's Searched a number of folks. He says the licking's key... And since Lysseth wasn't willing to do it... He had to be her surrogate licker if she was gonna Search somebody." Syrali struggles into the pack, ducking reflexively as her blue dive-bombs and burrows in under the topmost flap. "I don't know about ready," she says, some weak spark of humor returning, "but I've got everything that's mine." Kassima shakes her head at this response from R'ehn. "Your dragon's *weird*, floof-head. In that case, let's shake some tail and get you settled in ere midnight!" You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly. You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered foreleg. <*> R'ehn snickers quietly, moving to climb up Bhalth's side. "He says he considers that a complement, boss-lady." <*> R'ehn climbs up onto Bhalth's back, the dragon's sparkling eyes watching closely. <*> Lysseth waits for her rider to mount up, then lowers a shoulder helpfully for Syrali. See, she can be nice to people when she now considers them *hers*. <*> Syrali tugs down her sweater sleeves, looking over Lysseth doubtfully. "I hate going between," she mutters under her breath, but pulls her unpracticed way up to the green's ridges. Syrali accepts Kassima's proffered hand and swings up onto Lysseth's lower neckridges, settling herself behind Kassima carefully. Kassi grins and reassures the dubious Lysseth that Syrali is safe, and the green faces forward as her rider gets ready to fly. Kassima assures, as reassuringly as she can, "It won't take but a minute, and at least Lysseth's nay insane, like *some* dragons I could mention. Need any help with the straps?" <*> Bhalth is not insane. He's just desced that way. <*> On Bhalth, R'ehn tugs on his gloves, snickering softly. "It's okay Bhalth, insane isn't always a -bad- thing..." Syrali doesn't /seem/ to, except she has one twisted around the wrong way. "I don't think so...." Kassima gives the twisted strap a dubious look, but seems content. "All right, then. Away we go!" Giving R'ehn the wave-signal, she nudges Lyss, and the green spreads her wings in preparation for take-off. <*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air. You gain altitude, winging your way up above the massive buildings of the Smith Hall complex to the quieter skies above it. <*> Bhalth flies up near you from the area just outside the Smith Hall complex. Syrali mutters something under her breath, and winds her fingers through the straps, her eyes squinted shut. Wild chirruping from her pack suggests /someone's/ enjoying this, at least. Kassima shouts back over the wind, "Brace yourself--we're going *between*!" <*> Lysseth disappears into Between.